Once a Lamb
by The Viscount Vampyre
Summary: Ciel falls victim to another cult... Another horrible ritual. But this one's different, or is it? 5 Part short story. Rated for explicit content, themes, et cetera.
1. Captured

Author's foreword: This is going to be a five part/chapter series and comes to you from a request/prompt I received from two Anon. Its 'M' rating is well earned (in my humble opinion) and as a general disclaimer it will feature several things that are present and underpin the original Kuroshitsuji source material. For example: occultism, sexual content, and abuse.

Read and review, if you please, and I hope you enjoy one of my darker stories. –VV

EDIT: 25/07/2019 In order to purge my content and make it adhere to FF rules, I have removed chapters three, four, and five. If you liked this story and my other content, please consider following and reading me on Archive of Our Own (Ao3). Thank you.

Once a Lamb

Chapter 1: Captured

The hood smelt like whatever used to occupy it, rotten potatoes, beets, or some other kind of earthy vegetable…

But whatever it was, it stung Ciel's nostrils with an acrid odour on his every breath.

The rough burlap was coarse and abrasive against his cheek. And from where his head rested on the floor the bag was stuck between his flesh and the motion of the carriage had rubbed him raw.

Weakly he would attempt to alleviate the 'rug-burn' from the bag by trying to raise his head.

Each time he'd only receive a moment of reprieve before one of his captors brought their foot down against his temple and pressed him back against the floor.

His hands felt tight and sore from struggling and from the awkward way that he had been laying. The constant motion didn't help either.

The carriage he was in rumbled and rattled, seeming to find every bump in the decrepit road that they must have been on.

This constant noise wouldn't allow him to find solace in sleep. Even though his head swam from the abduction, and his body was rigid with exhaustion, there was no way he could lose consciousness.

He was far too afraid for that, and there had been far too much activity for that.

The panic came in waves.

As the chemicals in Ciel's brain would go through various cycles of dissipating, building, and then releasing again, he'd experience a terrifying collection of emotions. And as each wave would rise inside his chest he'd become more stricken and his resolve would weaken.

'These scum…' he began thinking.

'I… I've got to try and focus… what- no, _where_ did they come from?'

As he tried to line up and make sense of the sequence of events which had happened so far he'd quickly stumble and fail in ordering them.

He'd been struck several times during and since the actual abduction, so much so that his memories were hazy at best and fantastical at worst.

The failure to have defended himself, the failure of Sebastian to intervene… Everything that had happened, it all made him want to scream in frustration, but he'd quickly learned from his previous verbal protests that his captors would have nothing to do with it.

Unlike the mafia goons who had abducted him once before these people seemed like complete professionals.

They said nothing to him, save for simple orders, and they maintained complete silence among one another too.

Eventually his tongue and his ego got the better of him and he mouthed off at them once too many times.

For this he had been repaid with a swift kick to his abdomen, winding him, and then the bag-hood was taken off so that a cloth gag could be tightly tied around his head and stuffed into his mouth.

Unlike the burlap bag the cloth gag was thankfully odourless, and had no discernible taste other than that of laundered material.

He tried to get any kind of glimpse of where they might be going but the carriage windows had been covered over by the cabin's draw-string curtains.

'Even if they were open…' Ciel thought, 'It'd be past sundown by now…'

He shuddered as he laid still and listened to the rumbling and rolling of the wheels below.

A noise came into the cabin and at first he didn't know wherefrom.

It was low and steadily climbed in pitch.

As his chest heaved and his eyes swelled with warm wetness he realised; it was him.

Quiet sobs were escaping his mouth involuntarily; and try as he might to bite down on the gag and mute himself he just couldn't.

His chest heaved under his loosened, pulled, and dishevelled clothing and his mind raced with maddened thoughts as he attempted to keep himself straight.

'Shut up, you child!' he tried telling himself, 'J-just stop… th-they're going to hit you!'

He shook and shivered at the thought of being beaten again and his skin grew clammy as he nervously anticipated the coming strike.

His stomach was turning over and over as a maddening level of anxiety over took him.

His chest and body were contorting themselves horribly, what he felt in his heart was leagues and bounds greater in its terror than when he had to speak in front of people or ask Elizabeth to dance…

His mind, no longer attempting to uphold any sense of decency, began pleading with himself; 'I'll never complain about such trifles again… I swear it… Lizzy, I'm sorry…'

He began shivering as his eyes watered and his mouth tensed around the gag.

Beside his head he heard the shuffling and the motion of one of those who had abducted him and he expected a hit to come.

He tensed and tried curling himself while on the floor, futilely attempting to make himself as small a target as possible.

Rather than a blow he instead received something far more insulting and far greater a wound:

The captor began laughing.

It was a low chuckle, but it was far more insidious than Ciel was seemingly able to handle at the moment and it threw him deeper into his lapse of self-control.

He didn't begin wailing, but his sobs were certainly much louder than before.

The nervous shiver which began earlier increased in its reach across his entire body. At first it was just in his fingertips and toes; a tingling which made his skin and limbs move involuntarily.

Now, it had radiated up his limbs and his shoulders shook and twitched.

Sweat began to form on the back of his neck, making his hair and his collar stick to him uncomfortably. Sometimes the bumps of the road caused the bag to snag and pull at his hair from out of his collar.

The shivering was so unnerving to him that it was all he could do to keep it from consuming his body entirely and reducing him to a catatonic, rocking, state.

'Sebastian…' he began to plead.

'He's going to be coming for me, shortly, I know… Shortly…'

'I'm sure of it.'

'I'm sure of it…'

…

When the carriage finally stopped his body continued to rumble from the vibrations and he felt a malaise brought on by the abrupt lapse in motion.

He wanted to say 'where are we' but he wasn't going to give these bastards the satisfaction.

He had to maintain his resolve…

He had to steel himself, no matter what was to come.

The door to the carriage opened and he smelt fresh air, it was cool and poured into the tight cabin, washing over everything with a refreshing and disinterested touch.

Ciel didn't know if that made him feel worse or not, but here was the wind, and by extension the earth, completely oblivious and mute to anything which transpired upon her surface.

In the recesses of his mind a child-like part of him did persist, and in times of great duress it grew just that little bit louder; why doesn't the wind help me? Why can't it whisk a message to him? Why couldn't it blow these men down and carry me away…

A strong and gruff hand took hold of his shoulder and began to pull him into an upright position.

"Sit" it commanded.

The sensation of blood rushing out of his over-gorged skull made Ciel shoot his hands out for purchase at either side. Yet the bonds at his wrist rudely reminded him he had to stand on his own.

Outside the carriage a voice spoke up, barely able to contain its excitement, "Is that… is it…"

He giggled perversely and shuddered.

Behind him Ciel heard the door on the other side of the carriage open and the noise of one of his captors exiting.

Beside him the one who had sat him up took hold of the top of the bag and ripped it off with a single motion.

"Aye" The man confirmed with a smile.

It was dark, around dusk, yet the exterior of the cabin was illuminated by freestanding torches and lanterns.

Blinking his eyes open Ciel tried to focus on his surroundings but then met the gaze of the adoring man who had spoken and giggled.

His mouth was agape exposing a bright pink tongue and filed ivory teeth. His hair was long, slicked back with an uncomfortable amount of mousse, the colour of pepper. His face was clean shaven save for two long side-burns extending almost all the way to his jaw.

He leant in and brought his hands to his face as he squealed; "It's Ciel Phantomhive!"

He jumped with excitement and did a pirouette. He was wearing a plain morning coat and the tails of the black garment sailed as he spun.

Ciel wanted to snarl and his lip rose in revulsion.

Beside him his captor spoke and placed his hands on his back pushing him towards the open doorway.

"Come on, out now _my lord_."

Shooting his legs out of the cabin he felt for the step-rail of the carriage, but became distracted as he looked up at what was behind the smiling sharp-toothed man.

Seeing his expression and following his eyes the man cleared his throat and eagerly spoke,

"Welcome to Y-Gorthwr-du, lord Phantomhive!" he exclaimed, punctuating the sentence he bowed at the hip and spread his arms out widely.

'Gorthwr? We're… they brought me to _Wales_?'

Ciel shook his head as he shivered.

An ancient castle soared behind the man, its towers long since laid low, the parapets had worn down from years of sleet, and rain, and howling wind.

Yet its keep was covered in scaffolding and canvas tenting.

Evidentially restoration was being done on the old fortress…

'Think Ciel… _think!_ A castle… in Wales, if it's not on her majesty's rolls of crown property it's either been made public land, or private! Who could afford such an expense as to restore a thirteenth century castle?'

The boy's mind began racing as he looked down and began dismounting the carriage.

The file-toothed man smiled perversely as he watched Ciel descend.

"Oh my lord…" he sighed, "_My _lord will be most pleased to finally meet you! As I have…"

Ciel made no effort to hide his disdain and disgust.

Yet they were interrupted. A great cry came out from the gatehouse and a man fell, tumbling off the battlement to his death.

The man beside Ciel tensed and audibly reacted nervously while the file-toothed man merely furrowed his brow and looked over lazily.

"Huh?"

Looking to the men from the carriage he waved them along, "Well! Go look!"

The two guards looked down at Ciel uneasily, "But the boy… shouldn't we?"

Groaning the man ran his fingers through his shining hair and exhaled wearily.

The men nodded and moved away from Ciel as they wordlessly complied.

Stepping forwards he pointed at the two large men and complained, "It's so hard to find good help, wouldn't you agree?"

Ciel's lip shook as he did his best to contain himself.

The man raised an eyebrow as he smiled and looked the young lord over, "Though I'm sure I don't need to bring that score up with you, do I?"

He laughed privately.

Behind the man a rope noiselessly fell down the side of the wall and Ciel's eyes widened as he looked up to see a figure begin descending.

The man spoke again but Ciel couldn't hear him, he was entranced by the appearance of another person in their midst.

'They must have thrown that guard over the parapet? Then… they're no friend to these men!'

Ciel was tired, and he was willing to fly with any fancy which had the appearance of holding water. The appearance of a stranger descending a rope off the side of a castle wall was just such a fancy.

The figure appeared gaunt, with long dirty hair and rough-spun clothes. Yet their size and spidery motion made it clear that they were a youth, at least fifteen or sixteen years of age.

Watching with wild eyes Ciel could barely hide his interest as the figure climbed down hand over hand until they reached the grassy ground.

The sharp-toothed man looked away from his men and noticed Ciel's gaze and lack of attention to his words this whole time.

"What could possibly-" he said as he turned to follow Ciel's eyes.

The figure leapt forwards in two bounds and struck the man with their leg in a high kick.

Ciel jumped backwards and hit his back against one of the carriages' wheels as the sharp-toothed man fell to the muddy path with a loud groan.

His would-be rescuer could now be seen properly in the nearby torchlight and Ciel's head shot back in surprise; it was a girl! Her face was filthy, covered in mud and grime.

Grimacing she delivered another kick with her bare feet before producing a small sharp stone from a pocket sewn into her tunic.

"Give me your hands!" she cried.

The sharp toothed man rolled from under her and cried to his men near the gate, "Leave the body you fools! She's escaped!"

Ciel complied with the wild girl's order and shoved his arms forwards.

Wrapping her long thin fingers around his right wrist she held him tightly as she sawed her sharpened stone through his rope bonds.

The men began running towards them when the bonds finally came free.

She threw her stone and it skillfully hit one of the men in the face, he cried and brought a massive hand to cover his 'wound'.

"Follow me!" she roared.

Ciel was so bewildered that he didn't know what else to do and when the girl took hold of his hand he struggled to keep up as she tore away from the path in a sprint.

In the gloomy light Ciel could see a great wood which had slowly grown up and around the grounds of the castle.

They slipped into the underbrush, panting and cracking twigs underfoot.

"W-who are you?!" Ciel finally panted out.

In the dark she shook her head as she drove them through the gnarled and gothic trees.

"Questions later save your breath! We need to get as far as we can before they 'loose the dogs!"

Ciel didn't feel at all comfortable with the girl speaking to him with such a tone, or with how she was nearly ripping his arm out of its socket.

But

She'd saved him.

And if they needed to get away from dogs then… well he couldn't really argue.

…


	2. Cult

Once a Lamb

Chapter 2: Cult

Ciel's lungs burned, his legs hurt, and he was panting as fast as his body would allow.

The girl remained steady the whole time they sprinted through the wood and it felt like they had ran for hours before she finally slowed and he was allowed a moment of reprieve at a stream.

Ciel could barely see in front of him, moonlight was obstructed by cloud and the canopy above.

The girl's face was covered in streaks of dirt and she'd been slapped and scratched several times by low hanging branches and pine needles. Though her cheeks were gaunt and her body was overall unhealthily thin in the half-light she actually seemed pretty.

"So… Wh-who are you?"

She sat herself down for a moment on a rock beside the stream and moved her thin and brittle brown hair off her face, her pupils narrowed into slits as they accustomed to the dark and she eyed Ciel hungrily.

If only he could have seen better…

She smirked, "You can call me Lilith."

She held her hand out and met Ciel's eye.

Feeling dishevelled and flustered, as well as indebted, Ciel wiped his right hand on his torn and filthy trousers before extending it to meet hers.

Her fingers were cold to the touch and he could barely make out her friendly grin as they shook hands.

"C-Ciel Phantomhive, pleased to meet you, under the circumstances." he said raggedly.

She opened her eyes in interest, as she asked "Oh… You're a lord are you not?"

Ciel withdrew his hand and nodded, "Yes… I, uh I am."

She stood and curtseyed, and then she laughed, "I never been able to do that for real before…"

Ciel shook his head, "How have you come to know me by name?"

She nodded and her face became plain as she answered quickly and matter-of-factly; "The guards, they mentioned you at length."

'Right, of course…'

Reminded of his captors the young lord began to boil with anger, "Who are those bastards? Especially that man… with the slicked hair? Who is he? A-and that castle?"

She nodded, and held her hand out to him, "I'll explain as we walk. I hear the dogs."

Ciel furrowed his brow and was about to protest when in the distance behind them the deep bellowing growls and barks of hunting hounds echoed through the thick woods.

…

Doing her best to lead a path along the edge of the stream and uphill Ciel listened as Lilith quietly provided him some answers.

"Much like you I don't remember much of how I was taken… I too was with companions at the time; my _friends_. Yet I woke up in the back of a cart being drawn towards this _damnable _castle…"

Her voice quivered and she tightened her grip on Ciel's hand before apologising, "S-sorry… Anyway, the men… they're of a cult of some kind…"

Ciel's eyes widened in the darkness and his chest tightened. A flash of memory made the brand and scars on his body burn with familiarity.

'A cult…' he repeated.

Memories of his own maddening screaming came to him as he saw black tendrils come from… come from _beyond_.

Her voice tore him from his memory as she continued, "They've been at this for a while… I…" she exhaled wearily, "I don't know how long they've held me."

She laughed hollowly, "This is my second escape… but I don't intend to go back. My mistake the first time was to do it during the day, when they had the most members and could easily see me."

She nodded, "The man with the hair and… and those revolting teeth. I've never heard his name; but he's only ever referred to as the Wurm."

She laughed lowly, "Bet he's right raw that I stole you away from his clutches."

Ciel felt a compulsion to thank his heroine again, "For which I am eternally grateful… I swear as soon as I get back to England I'll help you back in any way I can."

She slowed in her step and turned her head as she walked.

Her face was lightened by silver streaks of the hunter's moon.

Her eyes rose and her lip quivered, "Y-you would?"

Ciel shook his head incredulously, "Of course!" he whispered.

"I'll help get you back to your family, I'll even see about a stipend for this… I'll be indebted to you for the rest of my life."

She smiled and her eyes creased at the corners, "I don't know what to say…"

They paused and she lowered her head for a moment.

Barking behind them rose louder and she snapped to, "Well enough of that! We're not out yet!"

Ciel looked behind and could see the faintest glimmers of torchlight.

He nodded as he turned back and Lilith led onwards, "Right!" he agreed.

"When I first escaped I made note of some monastery ruins at the edge of the wood, and the head of this stream."

Ciel nodded, "I hope to god this is that very stream."

She smirked, "As do I…" she whispered.

Ciel stifled a cough as they forded the water, doing their best to try and mask their scent.

"But… wouldn't they check the ruins for us? If this cult has as many men as I wager they do, they'll be able to search the whole of the castle's demesne for us."

Lilith grunted as she stepped over some gnarled roots and rocks with her bare feet, "There are catacombs in the monastery, even priest-holes."

She quieted her whisper and quickened her pace, "They'll not find us if we're quiet and you follow my every word."

Ciel was doing his best to stifle his panting, but his lungs continued to dog him.

Shaking his head he couldn't help but appreciate the irony of 'the queen's guard dog' running from… well, literal guard dogs.

…

When they reached the end of the stream they were at the base of a hill, and Ciel couldn't see five yards in front of him.

"We're here." Lilith announced.

She helped guide Ciel forwards until they were against a tall, old, stone wall.

"H-how can you see?" he asked.

Running her left hand along the stones she slowly led Ciel around the edge of the monastery's ruined outer wall.

"My cell is almost always in darkness… I grew quite accustomed to it."

Ciel nodded, but he still felt uneasy.

Maybe it was the exhaustion… the night… the air…

Whatever it was his body, and his contract covered eye, ached.

"This is the gate." She quietly announced.

Ciel furrowed his brow and was trying desperately to see through the murky pitch of the night.

"A-are you sure?" he asked hesitantly, trying his best to mirror the volume of her voice.

She smiled and leaned her head towards his left ear and neck. He only noticed she was so close when she responded in an unnerving voice; "_Positive._"

He shuddered as she recoiled and continued forwards through the decrepit and ruined gatehouse.

"You'll need to be very careful, and only step where I step."

Ciel scoffed involuntarily as he spat "How? I can't even see!"

His voice betrayed his nervousness and his terror.

Despite her having led him away from the cultists, and despite her firm confident grip, he couldn't help but feel consumed by fear.

She cooed, "Don't worry; there's a small oil-lamp just over here."

Ciel's mind was swimming, 'Something's wrong…'

She led him along the inside of the monastery's curtainwall until they reached a ruined cloister and some rain-worn stone steps.

"Be very quiet… I think I can hear the dogs."

Ciel looked behind them, but in the darkness there was very little for him to be able to distinguish back from front.

"You may crouch if you'd like…"

The sounds of her footfalls were no longer soft and grassy, and her voice physically lowered as she stepped down into the catacomb.

"I must let go to light the lamp, you'll have to trust me Lord Phantomhive."

Ciel felt the cold wind rising from the deep stone chamber in front of him and he shivered.

"F-fine…" he replied curtly.

He lowered himself to sit on the first step and he rubbed his hands against his biceps as Lilith struck flint against the step.

'She must have planned this a hundred times before finally escaping…'

He thought he could make out her shape in front of him as the sparks and stone collided.

'I only hope I would have been as resolute as her…'

A dim light finally came forth in the gloom from a rusted and dented hand-held oil lamp.

Lilith beamed a smirk of satisfaction as she looked up at Ciel and he nodded, "W-well done…"

She extended her right hand again and this time she didn't wait for him to meet it, she grabbed his with a sudden sense of urgency and turned to plunge on into the gloom of the low ceilinged catacombs.

The walls seemed to absorb the light, and the reflected tongues of orange-blue flame danced evilly across the cobbles.

"Any alcove will do I imagine…" she said hollowly.

Her voice echoed for a spell before it was met with a cool breeze of air in response. The smell was musty… filled with the old scent of rotten wood and moss.

Water dripped from overhead beams of exposed wood, or the brick Roman-style arches. It collected in puddles under their feet as they stepped along down the narrow passage.

Lilith stepped through the puddles seemingly unaffected by their depth or the shock of their temperature. Ciel danced his feet around them, doing his best to avoid soaking his shoes further.

The wind howled past them and she stopped abruptly.

It was so suddenly cold that Ciel found himself thankful to be so small as to fit in Lilith's shadow. She diffused the brunt of the air, but it still spidered and flicked its chill tendrils around his exposed flesh.

He shivered involuntarily and she looked over her shoulder with a smirk, "Are you both cold and a feared master Phantomhive?"

He held his chattering bottom jaw and nodded, "Would you think any less of me to say that I was?"

She chuckled once, "Not in the _least_."

Her voice was almost mocking and Ciel raised his brow, 'Rude girl… though… hang on Ciel I wager you'd be callous if you were locked up as she was too…'

Lilith stopped when they reached a junction and she looked from either side.

"Your choice master Phantomhive: right or left?"

Ciel looked down either option.

To their left was a cracked wall with a hole large enough to crawl into while down their right was more vaulted hallway.

And so it was with haughty regard for his cleanliness that Ciel consigned his own fate.

"Right." He responded breathily.

Lilith's smile grew in the lamplight and she turned and led on, _"As you wish"_

Ciel nearly tripped over an uneven stone as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

'That's… something's certainly not right…'

After a few yards of the hall the girl pointed into one of the vaulted alcoves to the side.

"Here seems out of the way enough." She whispered approvingly. Letting go of Ciel's hand he noticed that his skin was pale and devoid of feeling for having been in her grip for so long.

Wiping a spot of stone she lay the lamp down carefully and then sat with her back leaning against the curving wall.

She smiled and bid Ciel join her.

But it wasn't right…

His mind began to scream at him as he looked at her face and studied it uneasily.

His heart began to pound. His voice and throat were dry as he voiced his maddened question, "How did you know about the lamp…"

Her mouth curled in disappointment and she folded her arms.

"You're no fun…"

For the first time Ciel noticed the brands on her hands and he quailed.

Her flesh was reddened and black around deeply burned circular symbols. Inside each was a perverted caduceus, and pierced through it was could only be described as an ankh.

He knew it by sight… it wasn't a coincidence.

It couldn't be…

The Ankh was new but… the snakes, the curvature of the branding iron… It was the same as his.

Instinctively he reached with his right hand towards his left side.

He cringed and let out a moan of pain.

Just as it was when it had first happened, his brand began to burn.

Lilith raised an eyebrow and looked at the backs of her hands. "Oh these?" she exclaimed.

"Ha yes. I didn't exactly approve but of course, _Wurm insisted…_" she giggled absentmindedly and looked at Ciel as she cocked her head.

"What's wrong master Phantomhive?"

Ciel furrowed his brow and his hands shook as his legs tensed.

Her pupils narrowed and widened for a brief moment and Ciel recoiled from her and the alcove, jumping backwards with a howl of fear.

"They'll be along shortly…"

Her voice was like nails across steel.

Ciel shook his head and continued to back away.

She smirked in disbelief and began to rise from her seat, "Don't you hear the dogs?"

Ciel turned his head and looked down the direction they had come from as distant barks began to grow louder and clearer.

"W-why?!" he cried.

Lilith stood and extended her hand to him.

"Please my lord… we've gone to great lengths to meet."

She bared her teeth and began laughing.

Ciel's shoulders began to shake violently and he let loose a mad wail as he sprinted headlong down the hall.

Lilith's laughter began to rise in volume and intensity as the shouts and coordination of men began to spring out of every alcove of the catacombs.

Braziers lit and came to life along the sides of the halls as Ciel sprinted as fast as his body could take him.

'_No! no no no no no no no!'_ he thought and screamed.

Masked and hooded figures began to step from between the stones and out of the shadows.

He brought his hands to either side of his head and began screaming as he barreled forwards towards an elaborately carved stone door.

As his shoes slapped down the stone he splashed through puddles and neared the door, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.

The door began to part and with the dogs barking and the mumbling figures behind him seemingly spurring him on Ciel leapt through the threshold with a loud cry.

He made it only a few steps into the room before stopping.

Before him sat a broad stone altar, its construction was crude and worn and it had obviously been hewn from the earth centuries before.

Illuminating the room and surrounding the altar in concentric circles were hundreds of candles.

He began shivering madly as Lilith stood up from behind the altar.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a tilted head.

"Do you not like our castle?" her face drooped and she feigned to be hurt. "Yet we prepared it _at such great expense_."

Ciel began screaming and tried to fight as the masked men surrounded him and began lunging at him.

He threw out his fists for purchase, scratching, biting, screaming, kicking, and swearing.

He lost all sense of reason and fought with the ferocity of a rabid beast.

'_No! Sebastian… SEBASTIAN!'_

…


End file.
